


I've Seen You Die and It Almost Killed Me

by WhatAmI



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, F/M, Fix-It, Gay Richie Tozier, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Major Character Undeath, Stanley Uris Lives, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-18 04:22:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21505123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatAmI/pseuds/WhatAmI
Summary: When Pennywise dies, Stan and Eddie come back.Richie struggles with his sexuality before struggling with Eddie's death before struggling with his sexuality again.Multi chapter fic
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 81





	I've Seen You Die and It Almost Killed Me

The heartache felt similar to when Eddie moved away from Derry. But then, he was only moving. He was gone, but he wasn't dead. There was hope of keeping in touch, then. Hope for phone calls that never happened, and letters never sent… but now there was nothing to hope for. Eddie was dead. There was no hope for seeing him after the losers parted or telling him how he felt. Even with Eddie alive, Richie had no hope for mutual feelings, though he was going to point out that it was an insult to his love for Eddie, for him to be unhappily married. " _ You don't have to marry me, but you can't stay unhappy like this." _ He might have said. Now Eddie didn't have the chance to be happy. And what was it all fucking for anyways!? What made this  _ their _ fucking responsibility? They were just kids the first time they came across the fucker! They were  _ children _ ! It was Bill's fucking fault  _ all  _ of it was Bill's fucking fault. He dragged them into the shit as kids and then made them fucking swear to come back- Eddie and Stan would still be alive if it weren't for that stupid oath. And it was Mike's fucking fault for calling them back instead of leaving them all be and getting the fuck out of Derry himself to forget the whole mess. Just the phone call killed Stanley. But it was also Richie's fault. If Eddie hadn't saved him from the deadlights he'd still be alive. But Eddie had saved him, and what did he get for that!? Death. His big fucking reward for showing bravery and saving his friend's life was  _ death. _

They'd all been having a fucking  _ blast _ in the quarry. As if there wasn't the weighing feeling of two missing people there only in the empty spaces that should have been filled. Richie knew it was unfair to be angry with them. He knew that it was a miracle  _ any _ of them got out alive and he supposed that was worth celebrating but… he didn't feel like he came out alive. Part of Richie Tozier died underneath Neibolt House… most of him, even.

And now Ben and Bev were happy and Richie should be happy for then but he couldn't help but feel bitter. Here they were alive and well- love sure saved the fucking day for them- and Eddie was rotting underground. Guess love doesn't come through if it's one sided. If he saw them holding hands again he might shove shards of glass into his eyes to fucking blind himself so he doesn't have to see it again. 

And Bill had to leave soon to work on his movie and he kept giving Richie these pitying,  _ knowing _ looks every time he reassured everyone he'd stay in touch. He seemed excited to get back- though getting a papercut to the ballsack sounds great if it gets you away from Derry- but it wast exactly excitement he was  _ inspired _ . Apparently going to hell and back helped you figure out how to end a fucking story. And again, Richie should be happy for him… but he was bitter. Bill had something to go to, a wife.. Richie had a headache to go back to and he wasn't sure when he'd feel up to getting on stage and pretending to be okay again.

And Mike was going to Florida. He was finally leaving this hellhole and  _ fuck _ Richie wanted to be happy for him. He'd sacrificed so much to make sure they came back to Derry.. but that was exactly why Richie couldn't feel happy for him. If he'd just fucking left in the first place Richie wouldn't be in a shitty bar trying hard to stop feeling anything. Stan wouldn't be dead. Eddie wouldn't be dead. Mike pulled the fucking trigger every time he picked up the phone.

Richie didn't know if Stan would be buried or cremated. He didn't know where he would be buried, if he was, and he wouldn't visit even if he did. He couldn't, but he hoped Stan's wife would. He hoped in time she would be able to move on with her life- maybe there could be hope for him too.

And Eddie would rot underground in It's lair. Richie hated that more than anything, he didn't  _ belong _ there. If he had to be gone- if he  _ had _ to die he didn't belong in that awful fucking place. And what would his wife think? Would they tell her? Would they let her hope he was coming back until she died too? Richie didn't know. None of that had been talked about yet. Myra would know though. Even if everyone else decided against it, Richie would tell her anyways. She made Eddie miserable but she deserves to know that he was dead. Free from her, if nothing else.

And Richie didn't know what his life was now. He didn't know when he was leaving Derry. He didn't know when he'd talk to his agent and try to smooth over the fact that he walked off stage and vanished… he didn't know if he would. It was hard to see the point in that or anything else now. Richie ordered another drink.

A large hand was gently placed on Richie's shoulder. His shoulders tensed, but he barely moved to look at who the hand belonged to. It was Ben, of course it was Ben. "Ben Handsome!" Richie grinned, "I saved your number and that 'stead of Hanscom because-  _ dayum!"  _

Ben offered him a slightly amused, yet saddened smile, "Hey buddy.. let's get back to the Inn, hmm?"

Richie shook his head, "Nah I'm okay here. I'll go back in a little while."

Ben sighed, "Rich, come on.."

Richie spoke in a sloppy British accent, "My good sir! You have neglected to bring backup so I shall stay in this pub and-" the accent stopped as Ben easily pulled Richie to his feet, "-hey! Wait a damn minute!"

Ben grabbed his wrist and didn't squeeze hard, but his grip was firm enough to easily pull Richie along and out the door. Richie was a  _ little _ too drunk to really give much of a struggle. Once they were down the street from the bar, Richie tugged his wrist to get it out of Ben's grasp. "Look, I'm not trying to go back you already got me this far. Just let go so I can fuckin' smoke."

Ben sighed and let go of Richie's wrist, watching as he took a brand new pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and took one out, lighting it. "Old habits?"

Richie shrugged, taking a long drag before replying, "I never did great with quitting but I did cut back a lot. I blame your girlfriend. Bad influence." He shook his head playfully and took another drag.

"Being in Derry can't help." Ben nodded in understanding. 

"That or Eddie and Stan being dead while we all get to fucking live on.." Richie snapped.

"You aren't the only one upset about that, Rich." Ben spoke gently, staying calm to avoid elevating things. "We're all going to be carrying the weight of survivor's guilt-"

Richie scoffed, "Survivor's guilt? Our  _ friends  _ are dead. That makes it sound like we survived in a sinking boat full of fucking strangers-"

"Richie, obviously it's going to hurt more than that… not just for you. Like you said, they were  _ our _ friends." Ben hesitated before adding, "I know you feel like we can't possibly be as upset as you are and… with Eddie you might be right. He's always been.. more to you and-"

"Shut up."

"Rich, it's okay-"

"Beep  _ fucking _ beep, Haystack!" Richie snapped, "And no! It's not okay! He's fucking dead!" Richie's voice cracked.

Ben gently grabbed his wrist again, only to pull him into a hug.

Richie wanted to stay angry. He wanted to shove Ben away and tell all of the remaining losers that they could go fuck themselves. But the anger was ebbing away, making a clear path for the despair to crash through him. He clung to Ben's shirt and broke down for the second time that day- but he was too drunk to shove everything back down and make a joke to change the subject. He just sobbed, the lit cigarette falling to the ground as he clung to Ben in the middle of a fucking sidewalk in Derry.

  
  
  
  


Richie slowly woke up, the throbbing in his head the immediate reminder of  _ why _ he'd drank so much. Suddenly the headache was nothing compared to the pain in his chest, and Richie wasn't sure if it was the sudden slap to the face reminder of Eddie's death or the hangover itself that had him quickly stumbling out of bed. Once his stomach had emptied itself he let himself sink down to sit on the bathroom floor. His legs, bare aside from boxer shorts, twitched at first when they met the cold linoleum floor. The floor was fucking  _ disgusting _ but the will to get up just wasn't there yet. It wasn't as if Eddie was going to start rattling off all the fucking diseases he could get anyways. Though maybe if he sat here long enough Eddie would come back to life just to scream at him. Richie rolled his eyes at himself and pushed himself up off the floor just in time to hear knocking. He sighed and pulled on a pair of sweatpants and glanced down to the shirt he was wearing… no wonder if felt so fucking tight earlier. It wasn't his… when the fuck did he grab one of Eddie's shirts? 

Beverly knocked again, "Richie?" Her voice sounded worried.

"Unless you want me to open the damn door naked give me a minute!" Richie huffed and quickly tore the shirt off, putting one of his own on and stuffing Eddie's further into his bag. He walked over to the door and opened it, "May I fuckin' help you?"

Beverly looked up at him briefly before letting herself into the room. 

"Sure.. come on in." Richie sighed and closed the door, turning to find her dumping out Richie's bag, "Hey! What the fuck Bev!?"

Beverly pulled out the pocket knife he'd used to recarve his and Eddie's initials on the kissing bridge  _ before _ getting drunk. Her eyes quickly moved to the door to make sure it was shut before she met Richie's eyes, "I remembered something I saw the deadlights."

"What the fuck does my pocket knife have to do with.." Richie trailed off, knowing  _ exactly _ what his pocket knife had to do with it. "Bev I wasn't…" Hadn't he joked about alcohol poisoning being the goal last night? Had he been joking? 

She put the knife in her pocket and stepped forward to hug Richie tightly. He hugged her back. "I fucked up with Stan and Eddie I can't fuck up with you too." Her voice shook. 

Last night when he was immersed in anger he might have agreed with her, but the fire was out. "Shh.." he hugged her close, "It's not your fault. You forgot. We all forgot. There was nothing you could do for Stan… and with Eds- it all happened so fast.." his voice cracked, "I saw him die too- in the deadlights… I.. when I came out I was just so surprised to see that he was alive he was still there I- I didn't have a chance to save him either.." 

The two of them held each other and cried over their lost friends, neither of them noticing Richie's cell phone lighting up, a blurry picture of Eddie on the screen above the name  _ Eddie Spaghetti  _ on the screen as he called.

At Mike's Bill noticed Mike's phone ringing first, his eyes widening when he saw the name. "D-Do you think his wi-i-ife is calling?"

"I don't know.." Mike picked up the phone and answered the phone, putting it on speaker so the two of them could hear, "This is Mike Hanlon."

"You're all gonna get some letters in the mail that don't make much sense now that I'm not dead.." Stan spoke almost hesitantly, "I'm sorry for not showing up-"

"Stan!" Bill moved closer to the phone to speak to him.


End file.
